Bathed in dark blue light, this warfighting nerve center is a room that might more closely resemble a cave but for the illuminated displays and activity, creating an effect that detracts from the claustrophobic feelings it could impose when fully lit. Situated with all the major displays at the front of the room, crew members sit at work stations facing that wall as if an audience to a performance. Liquid crystal screens track everything from DRADIS contacts to the fuel status of airborne Vipers and Raptors. Off to the side, smaller screens hang from the low ceiling that provide video footage of the Flight Deck and Hangar Bay One's Viper Tube airlock doors.

To the rear of the room is the primary plotting table - the only white-lit object in constant operation within the room. Its pale illumination is just bright enough to back-light the maps that are lain out on it. A separate DRADIS display is placed at the rear of the room to provide the Officer of the Watch with a view of the tactical situation no matter which way they are facing. A set of yellow-lit glass plots are stood vertically to the side of the room, allowing the historical view of anything that might be tracked via sensors.

Hearing orders from the CIC, Praxis waits in the shadows for the Major to appear, the intention to stay close through the shadows so one of them doesn't accidentally wander down an open stairwell, or something. Eyes wander to the bulkhead at the dead, creaking ship before they proceed. Well, at least that fireteam had arrived. It's too bad the TACCO can't deal with that now.

"Aye, sir," Persy responds at once, feeling her way carefully from her station to the generator closet. Breaking a leg right now would be bad.

Sheridan kind of stares at Epi for a few seconds, like she might've grown an extra appendage or three. Of course, it's hard to discern in the almost pitch black. "Permission granted, Corporal. And you can inform the MaA that I want a word with him after those missing explosives have been found." And then he shoulders his way past, to go help Persy with that backup generator. Hey, sometimes even the CO has to get his hands dirty.

Sgt Nikos catches up to the fire team shortly after, having been caught back by the Sec Hub when they were dispatched. She hits the door just as Sheridan moves out. She steps out of the way smoothly, and moves up to Epi and her backup sing—er beefy companions. "Corporal. Did I hear scavenger hunt?" Word moves quickly in the blackened corridors.

Yeah, there's a thought bubble over Epi's head of "Ohshitohshitohshit" as Sheridan talks to her. "Yes, Sir," she says quietly. "Right away, Sir." She turns to go and catches Salazar, nodding. "Gotta go find some G-4 that went missing. It's enough to take out a small room - and make a damned mess. It disappeared from Weapons One sometime in the last 24 hours. It was there when Parts did the inventory last night."

There's some clanking from the generator closet. And some banging. Some more clanking. A little grunting, even. "Got the panel open…" Persy reports. "Okay… doesn't look like it's TOO frakked up in there. I think I can get it back online in ten. Maybe less."

Sheridan gets down on his knees, and 'helps' by holding the panel open while Persy does her thing. There's a grunted suggestion from the Commander now and then, but otherwise, he lets the countermeasures officer work. Nothing like having your CO breathing down your neck. Literally. "The quicker we get this thing online, the quicker we'll know whether we've got company out there," he notes, unnecessarily.

"… G-4 went missing." Salazar's tone is flat. She nods to the much smaller marine, and then nods to the hatch. "Smells like a scavenger hunt. He who explodes loses. Lead the way. I'm new to this ship."

"Yessir," Persy agrees with Sheridan, rerouting wires, as fast as her little fingers can. "Can you move that flashlight a little to the left?"

Sheridan complies, verily, with a little nudge of the flashlight in his hand. If he could make the beam brighter, he likely would. But they're stuck with its sickly pale glow, which only barely illuminates the bank of wires and switches in the generator closet. And.. there it is, the source of the burning smell— a cluster of wires that fizzled when the power cut out.

Epi dips her head to Salazar. "Scavenger hunt," she affirms, sliding out the door before Sheridan can catch her again. She moves decently in the dark, slowly, using what little light's available.

Salazar taps Epi on the shoulder with a black maglite type design flashlight. It's pretty hefty, but smallish. "Don't lose that. Saved my life more than once." She has all kinds of neat survival toys from the surface. Should see the knife collection. "I can see over your shoulder anyway." She makes her way out on the other woman's heels. Wonder twin powers activate!

"Smells kinda like bacon, doesn't it?" Persy remarks, yanking out the offending wires. "Now it's just a matter of repurposing some of the other ones…"

Epi takes the light and gives Salazar a wry smile. "Thanks Sarge. I've been running around and didn't have time to grab mine." She DOES have her weapon, though, and starts leading the way through the ship. "I think the Cargo Bay is probably the best place to start looking. Then work our way forward."

"Sounds good to me, Corporal." Salazar replies, on the heels of the smaller marine. Epi leads with way with a borrowed flashlight. Both marines are on a search for the explosives. It's like a scavenger hunt, but with the possibility of dying at the end!

The hatch to this berthing has a top-down stencil of a Raptor covering the whole doorway with the tail of the aircraft at the bottom of the hatch. Opening in, this berthing has the trappings of many other Raptor squadrons through the fleet. The standard three-bunk layout adorns most of the walls, pictures and paintings covering the rest where nothing else required has been emplaced. There is a hatch in the back the moves to a private Head for these officers. That standard dark blue curtains hide each bunk from the common area to afford each pilot and ECO their own privacy. One varied addition to these quarters is a standard-issue green parachute draped from the top bunks of each of the three rows. Normally left rolled up, these can provide additional shade against the dull white light provided overhead. Meanwhile, the Raptor crews have a central wooden table done in a mahogany.

Thorn's only interruption as Matto and Thea talk is a soft, "Here, let's go sit back down, hm?" He looks at the still-shaken Raptor Captain with no small amount of concern as he leads her back over to take a seat on her bed, or whereever she feels like going.

The Raptor Captain looks kind of like she's seen a ghost. Her face is the color of skim milk and she's shaking. Yes, she looks about to throw up, but she's managing to hold it together. "Sitting will be fine," she agrees, letting the other two pilots be strong for the moment. "They'll tell us when it's alright to move."

And just then the hatch opens and the lights of a 4-man Marine Fire Team can be seen. "Ladies and gentlemen," Epi calls in her nearly little girl voice. "Please remain where you are. The Commander has ordered a search of the ship."

Matto looks more or less as alright as he's looked on average of late. Weary, that is to say, and maybe looking a bit wan himself in the torchlight, concern for the Legsykitten evident, but otherwise he's content enough to rest his hands on the back of a chair and lean forward in a casual slouch. The hatch already having been open (or at least it was when he skulked through it a moment ago), he turns his head toward the cluster of marines and the shade of his head in the torchlight gives a quiet nod. He stays standing by the table so as not to get in the way.

The amusement written on Salazzar's face is hidden by her hand as she reaches up to brush her hand across her cheek. "This includes your bunks and lockers. If you have any lotions, oils, or other personal items of a goopy nature, please warn me verbally before I shove my hand into your stash." Salazar notes, with a deadpan expression. She, like her cousin (MSGT) Peri Nikos, has mastered the deadpan. She makes her way to the first bank of bunks and lockers, and begins a visual search with a tiny flashlight which matches, but is a much smaller cousin of, Epi's flashlight.

"A search?" Komnenos asks, an eyebrow raised. "What the hells are you looking for?" He stays where he is, though; even if an official-sounding 'request' from an armed Marine wasn't enough, Thea's still got his hand in a death grip, essentially preventing him from moving. He stays seated next to her, not interfering as the fireteam moves in. "Nothing like that in my locker, but if I find any of my cigarettes missing, it's your ass, Nikos."

"Thorn," Thea says quietly, a hint of warning in her voice. "Now's not the time. I have some lotions on the bottom shelf of my locker. A few…bottles." There's something in her voice when she says that. "Kissy? I'm fine. Just a…not used to the dark." Nope, no admitting weakness in front of hte Marines.

Epi goes to the other side of the room from Salazar and the other two Marines spread out as well. "There's a small amount of G-4 missing," she calls over to Thorn. "Have you seen it?" Hey, it's worth a try, right?

"That's real sweet, sir. But I'm just not that kind of girl," Salazar replies, with that slightly husky voice of hers. She sounds like that kind of girl. "If you see us running, you better keep up." She neglects adding on the 'sirs' there. But she's busy searching for explosive compound. Is someone going to take issue?

"Sorry, sir." The mention of explosives coupled with Thea's warning take some of the wind out of Thorn's sails as he whispers an apology to his commander. It's the frustration speaking. "Afraid not, Corporal," he responds quietly to Epi. A dry "I'm sure," is directed over at Salazar, but after that he falls silent as she goes about her work. If anybody's going to make an issue out of leaving off a 'sir' here and there, it's certainly not going to be Thorn. It would be rather hypocritical of him, wouldn't it?

Matto doesn't much care for being 'sirred' at in the best of situations, and its omission never bothers him even in the most formal of times, much less in an emergency situation. The bin of blue paint has been stashed once more in the game room, so… no goop warnings from his quarter. He turns around and sits on the edge of the table.

Thea relaxes a little and watches the bobbing and weaving of the working Marines. "No luck on the rest of the ship, I take it," she asks, probably needlessly. One of the Marines grunts a bit. "Kissy? You ok," she calls to the other pilot.

Epi, meanwhile, finishes her section. "Nothing here Sarge," she calls over to Salazar. "Well, no explosives." The final Marine calls clear as well.

The taller of the two black haired marines flattens to the floor to do a visual check of the bottoms of the lockers before she goes opening any of them. Yes, she's checking for trips. After a brief but thorough examination, she begins opening and shuffling through the contents of each locker individually. There's a very quiet, "…I did not need to see that," as she kicks closed Kassia's locker. Otherwise, she's professional and thorough. Down the line she goes. Mostly professional, "Hey, Dover. If you explode, I'm taking your shit." This is muttered in a slightly distracted tone. Just an FYI for a member of the fire team, kthx. "Thank you for the assorted warnings and stoic cooperation," she asides to the pilots, with nary a mention of fairies in her verbal address. She pauses on the last locker in her row. "… Clear." She regards the contents for a moment, then kicks it shut.

Thorn simply watches the marines as they go about their search, observing as Salazar pauses by his own locker. "Something catch your interest in there, Sergeant?" he asks in a deadpan as Salazar slams it shut.

"Yeah," Kissy calls back to the Captain, crossing his legs at the ankles and keeping his hands palms-down on the tabletop.

By this point, Thea's calmed down considerably and she offers Salazar and the Marines a wry little smile. "Let us know if there's anything we can do to help," she says with just a hint of distraction. The other Ghost Riders present aren't too thrilled about the marines pawing through - but given the speed and care with which the Marines handle things, the grumbles are quiet.

Epi starts for the hatch. "Thank you, Sirs," the Corporal calls, bouncing out with the alacrity of a ferret on speed. Chances are good she cleared half the ship in five minutes. "Ok, Sarge. Now the hard part. I'm siccing the Lieutenant on the Vipers if something in one of those lockers gives me an STD."

Nikos glances over toward Thorn, though her light does not follow. "I'll never tell, Lieutenant." She pauses, then adds. "I might tell if there were good booze in it for me." She takes a few heavy booted steps toward the hatch, making no effort at her usual stealthy quiet. "Enjoy your intimate evening, sirs. We have a viper squadron to rattle." And by rattle, she, of course, means protect by conducting a professional and thorough search of the Red Berths in as timely a fashion as possible. "Corporal, did you bring any super glue?" She's kidding. Right. What's a marine search without a sense of humor? She and her light make for the hatch and beyond. She asides something else as she goes.

You whisper, "If something in those lockers give you an STD, I'm cleansing the place with fire." to Epi.

"Oh, now I have t' know," Thorn responds. It's a mystery now, and to Thorn, mysteries are irresistable. "You like brandy, Nikos?" he calls after the marine as he stands up. With the marines finished, and Thea seeming to have calmed, he begins to pace around once again, his flashlight's beam bobbing as he moves.

The hatchway to this room has a top-down stencil of a Viper Mark Two painted across the entire expanse, the rear end of the Viper at the bottom of the hatch. Once inside, the berthings are typical of Viper squadrons throughout the fleet: Two lines of bunks are mounted against each wall with another one built into the wall at the other end. The room's gray walls and the empty space surrounding the bunks hold framed pictures of Vipers in action and depictions of the Cylon War of forty years prior. There is also a hatch in the back the leads to a private Head for these officers. Even here, the dark blue curtains hide away each individual bunk from the goings-on within the common area which is centered on a large oak table, though the surrounding chairs are standard navy.

There's a brief knock on the hatch - very brief - just before it opens and Marines start spilling forth into the Red Berthings. A child is leading them - at least, that's what it looks like in the near blackness. The Marines are, of course, armed with flashlights and other toys. "Ladies and gentlemen, please don't be alarmed," Epi calls in That Voice. "By order of the Commander, we're here to search the berthings, Sirs." At least she remembers the Sir this time. Two other Marines move in with her, as well as another dark haired Marine. The two guys, however, head toward pre-determined quarters.

"This includes your bunks and lockers. If you have any lotions, oils, or other personal items of a goopy nature, please warn me verbally before I shove my hand into your stash." Salazar notes, with a deadpan expression. She, like her cousin (MSGT) Peri Nikos, has mastered the deadpan. She makes her way to the first bank of bunks and lockers, and begins a visual search with a tiny flashlight. She begins with the underside of the bank of lockers in her row.

Samantha blinks, looking up to the Marines which have stormed their way in the room. Great. Sam smirks, and offers…"Uh… Locker 15 is mine. There's a bit of lotion and… lube in there. Just a warning." It's Sam, really…isn't that what everyone expected to be in her locker ANYWAY? She's still a bit blushed as she admits that, watching the Marines and then looking to everyone else curiously.

Castor watches this happen isn't sure what is going on as he looks at Salazar, right, he remembers her. He then watches the Marines silently for a moment as lights shine off, yup, this made today offically weirder, "So, we are the enemy now?" He asks politely but concerned because he has a bit of insider knowledge of what has been going down in the CIC, however, the only people on the Kharon that would know this would be the people who leaked to him. He then adds, "My locker has what I need to wash up, my hooch, cigars, and two cigarettes for the Eltee." He says thumbing over to Samantha. He then goes back to resting on his bunk and if something disappears from his locker he will not be pleased. He rubs his forhead, seriously, Marines, searching pilots lockers, the world has flipped upside down. Castor then says softly to no one, "This is what going mad feels like."

Wil's already leaning against the lockers with the arms crossed. "Huh? Oh." He presses himself away with a preoccupied look. He pushes himself upright with an outstretched hand as he eyes the new Marine presence in here with a slight tilt of his head. "Have at it." He says, jerking his thumb towards a locker about three-quarters towards the right side of the locker row. "That's mine. There's really nothing I can think of warning you about." He then points to one of the top bunks. "And that's me too. Same disclaimer."

Epi takes just a moment to offer Castor a small smile before she gets to work. "No Sir, you're not the enemy. Some G-4 has gone missing, and we're under order to search the whole ship." On the plus side, the Marines really aren't making a mess of the pilot belongings - there's respect there. They are, however, in a hurry and damned good at what they do. "Has anyone seen anything strange? Seen any clay looking substances?"

Salazar makes her way down the bank of lockers, pausing as she hits the mother load of sexual deviancy. "Corporal, this one's yours." She leaves Samantha's locker open, and makes her way down the way. She's fast and thorough, hand scooting around inside with a minimum of rattling. It's not until she gets to Castor's locker that she pauses, and narrows the focus of her flashlight beam. She leans in very carefully. "If you're fond of breathing, you should consider exiting the premises. Calm and orderly. Dover, secure this room." Her tone suggests it would be a good idea to listen. She reaches for her webbed belt and a the small demo kit clipped there. "Corporal. How do you feel about tight deadlines?" Nestled within Castor's locker is an armed surprise.

Samantha's lips smirk as she actually manages to scare a Marine away from her locker. There's just condoms, a few magainzes… one personal device, and two bottles of lube. But yes, Sam is a woman in her middle thirties and thoroughly enjoying it, that much is clear. She's about to make some remark when her eyes widen. She stares between Castor… and his locker, and the Marines, her eyes widened in utter confusion…

Leda looks at Epi and returns her smile, "Good to know, Corporal." He then raises an eyebrow, "Some G-4 has gone missing?" He takes a breath and he hopes no one is looking at him as he rubs his forhead because this is his longest and strangest day ever, okay not really, but it ranks in the top five. He then says, "Clay substance?" He attempts to remember anything claylike. He then opens his eyes as he looks to where Salazar is an in the dark he gives an almost paniced th' frak look as he sits up. Did someone bomb his locker. He then says, "Okay, correction, this is what going mad must feel like?" He looks at the locker as he prays that it isn't armed to kill anyone.

"G-4? Nooo." Willem's eyebrows raise. Unless there's something in his locker or bunk that he is not aware of, upon search it will contain a few books, notes, and the locker door, like most every other pilot's contains a row of photos and random pieces of memorabilia depicting people, places, and things. If they even get to it. He's about to comment more when Castor's locker is called out. His mouth hangs open. Speechless. "Huh?"

Up until the point in time Salazar mentions there's a bomb, Epi's been busy searching lockers. She's at Sam's when, well, she lets out a sound akin to utter awe. No, seriously. She just stands there staring for about ten seconds. "Sweet. Frakking. Gods.," the Corporal says quietly. "I've never seen one that big. Son of a bitch." Her ponytail shakes back and forth a little. "I didn't know they MADE anal beads in that color. And what the frak? Does this thing run on tylium?" Probably not hard to guess what she's looking at. But then her attention is wrested away. There are booms, and there are BOOMS. Apparently she's more of a fan of the big death than the little one. "Tight spaces? Love 'em. Tighter the better. You can feel a hell of a lot more that way. I like 'em tighter'n an Admirals asshole. Alright, Sirs. I would suggest getting yourselves out of here. An incindiary device has been located." She moves toward Salazar and holds the Big Maglite up so the woman can work. They seem to be, well, working neatly as a team. Marines. They do that. "Especially you, Sir," she tells Sam. "You won't wake up from this one and you sure as hell won't need a cigarette afterward."

Kai strides rather briskly into berthings right after Epi gives her speech, half into his flight suit and half out of it. The CAG's fairly COVERED in grease and tiny scrapes, like he'd spent the better part of his evening crawling around in a duct somewhere. Which, with the way tonight's been going, maybe he did. Of course, he stops short when he spots a pair of marines in his living area. And looks immediately to Samantha. The frak?

"Beads?" Wil mouths. It's completely inappropriate at a time like this, given all that's going on and the general level of confusion and implied culpability and he just gives Sam a glance. His shoulders shrug a little bit. "Right now, I want to shake Dash's hand. Maybe." Shaking his head suddenly, he turns a bit red realizing that this is probably the wrong place, and wrong time. Stepping -away- from the general vicinity, he moves towards the hatch in a slow series of steps, just glancing at Castor, and Castor's locker again. And the marines. His mouth is still open. "Sir." Kai's here though and now he falls right in line. "Should we clear the Berthings?"

Samantha is actually blushing… but it's fortunately completely dashed by the fact that Castor's locker is armed to the teeth with a bomb. She's already heading for the hatch, all too happy to be out of sickbay to be going back there again. As Kai comes in, she reports…"Someone wired Tinman's locker to the teeth, Marines are recommending we get the frak out of dodge and that's where I'm going, sir." She reports flatly as she steps outside the hatch and around the edge, but still is listening through its opening.

Salazar is hunched in front of Castor's locker bent over the device inside. Under normal circumstances, this might be questionable behavior. She moves back slightly, then takes a knee in front of the locker after giving Epi a gander. "Huddle, Corporal." She reaches in and pulls something out, then tosses a mysteriously bullet shaped four inch object over her shoulder toward a bunk across the way. Heads up, Karim. Incoming. That ain't a missile. "Sources of vibration and explosives do not mix, kids." She ignores the pilots, and readies a pair of wire cutters. "Bottom or top, Corporal?"

Castor is moving the hell on up out of the room as he prays he isn't the one to get in trouble for having a bomb in his locker. He remains quiet as his mind races trying to think of who he would have pissed off that badly and this makes him go even quieter, almost to quiet, because he is very stressed out at the moment and this means the Tinman has come out to play and for now the Tinman is moving with grace and detached composure because it beats flailing about like Jerry Lewis and screaming. He follows behind Sam as he wonders why he was the target and as he attempts to figure out why someone would have beads….on second thought it is best he doesn't know as he continues walking. He is however praying silently that there is no bomb armed andno pilots will die. He doesn't want to lise family.

"I don't have a frakking clue." Wil shifts his head to one side as Salazar hucks a, well, bullet and steps aside and then edges through the hatch. NOW is a good time to go. NOW.

Kai doesn't stop to ask questions. The demo team says to get out, he gets out. "All right, move it, boys," he tells the assembled pilots crisply as he turns on his heel and heads for the hatch.

"Mmmm," Epi murmurs quietly. "Usually I don't reveal that information until at least the third date. But since you asked so nicely, bottom." She steps in and studies the device while Sal's tossing things over her shoulder. "Definitely bottom. You're going to have to watch that back wire, though. It looks unstable."

"Nothing's more fun at a party than an unstable bitch in the back," Salazar replies, her hands moving over the device without actually touching it. The timer ticks down below eight minutes, 7:59, 7:58 and down. "You want to rock, paper scissors for it?" She grins over to the other marine, and then dips low to check the bottom of the device, eyes intent to check for anything she may have missed. 7:32.

There's a shudder and then a low whine as Kharon's main power cells come back online. Lights flicker on as emergency lighting in the hangar bay, CIC, sickbay and Engineering fade out, and the ship's engines begin spinning back up in tandem.

The Corporal laughs quietly, shaking her head. "Frakking amateurs," she murmurs. "Yeah, let's go. Rock, paper scissors works for me." Seven minutes, just over, and Epi seems relaxed and comfortable - as if they're taking the feathers out of someone's pillows. "I'm telling you, that pilot must have a cavern. Those beads were damn near the size of a pyramid ball." A shudder runs through her. "I thought Marines were bad."

"Her choices are limited. Maybe the equipment of the willing around fairy land isn't up to spec." Salazar tips up in a sit up to reach over and RPS with Epi. She chooses rock, and thusly loses the challenge. She grins, and slides over to let the smaller marine move into do the honors. "Be my guest, Corporal. I'm gonna go have a look at Dildoland again." Some things are just too terrifying to pass up.

"Watch what you touch," Epi calls over her shoulder, grinning. She crouches and starts working, fingers moving deftly over the bomb - though she's careful not to touch too much of it. "Mmmmm. Interesting workmanship," she comments, mostly to herself. "I don't know, I prefer mine moving. At least on its own. And something the size of a child? Yeah no."

Salazar glances into the locker, and flicks on her flashlight to better illuminate the contents, despite the overhead lights flickering on again. Some things bear a second, closer look. She just stares inside for a long moment. "That just ain't right," she finally decides, before she gently nudges the locker closed to shroud the contents, once more, in blissful mystery. That'll be burned into her mind forever. She shakes her head to attempt to dispel the image. "Kitty wants no part of that."

"Those pilots are a damned strange lot," Epi murmurs, a little distractedly. For the woman who's usually wriggling around like a puppy, she's strangely still. "You want to do the analysis on this one, Sarge," she calls over her shoulder. "Ok, she's defused. By the way, I'm Epi. Epiphany Jarot. Mom had an Epiphany about men when she got knocked up with me. Didn't know Dad was married to her CO. The ball reattachment surgery went well."

"That's funny. There's been some testicle retrieval surgery surrounding members of my family too," Salazar replies. She heads over to the locket once Epi gives the all clear, and pulls the pieces apart, checking the various bits before she reaches in, snags a pack of smokes, and shoves them into her bra. What. No one saw that. "Let's go share the food news with the princess patrol outside." She grins to the smaller marine. "Salazar Nikos, originally of Scorpia."

Epi either doesn't see or doesn't give a damn. She just grins up at Salazar and studies her for a long moment. "I get the feeling that you and I are going to be pretty good friends by the time this shit is over," she tells the woman. "We'll leave Dover on guard. Do you prefer Sarge or your name? I answer to just about anything." And now she's back to being little dog. Bounce bounce bounce. Either that or a kitten high as shit on catnip.

"Sarge, Nikos, Sal, your choice." Salazar replies, with a nod Epi. "We diffused a bomb and survived fairy land all in one day. I think we're pretty much tied by our traumatic experiences, starting with what was inside that locker there," she nods to the now closed locker, but doesn't mention the contents. "Maybe we should send Dutch her way…" She leads the way to the hatch. "Dover. Continue securing." She pauses at a locker on the other row, pops it open, and reaches inside to slide a little duct tape wallet inside. She kicks it closed, and continues on to make the hatch her bitch (by spinning it open).

Epi glances curiously at the locker she popped open, laughing, then shakes her head a bit. "Dutch…yeah. I don't know that he'd go there." Her usual smile fades a little. "Alright, let's give them the good news."

"You're right, he wouldn't. But it would be funny just the same, even if he only frakked with her over it." Salazar glances over as she steps through the hatch, and pauses, then steps inside again, and pulls it closed. "You ok, Corporal?"

"Story for another day, Sal," she says quietly. "Come on, before the CAG gets grumpy. I'm scared when he's grumpy."

"Yep." Salazar's nod is brief, her response tidy. No questions, no prying. She shoves the hatch open and continues out. "I'm sure he appreciates your saving the day." She smiles, then assumes that gruff sort of poker face before facing the pilots. It's more fun that way.

The hallways of the CEC Kharon are a nondescript battleship grey, functional and plain. Dull white lighting is inset into each archway and runs along the ceiling in recessed holds, illuminating the steel painted interior, and the occasional oxygen scrubber along the walls. Storage crates, in a matching dark grey scheme, are located here and there along these corridors, containing items of use for various nearby departments.

Samantha just gives a brief nod to Castor as he says he'd never harm anyone, a faint smile crossing her lips, that the best thing she can do close to reassuring right now, but she tries. "We'll…visit when they let us…" She echoes after him, and then looks back to Kai. The comment about the black berthings makes her grin. "Hmm.. cuddle up with Black Cat. Wonder if she claws in her sleep." There's that humor again. But she turns a concerned look towards their bunks. All her stuff is in there. HEr magazines. Her… Rabbit.

"Huh. I'm going to check on a couple people." Willem says, distantly, brushing the back of his hand against his forehead. With a deep, halting sigh, he declares, "I'll be ready. Sir." There's a one-beat pause there and he stands a little straighter, shifting from one foot to the other.

And out of the Red Berthings come Epi and Salazar. Epi's smiling and bouncing, rather like she just came from a damned good frak rather than defusing a bomb. "I wonder if he's going to mind that we have to cordon the area off for a few hours," she asks Salazar's back.

"… Good thing it's protocol." Salazar steps out of the berthing with bomb parts in hand. She glances down the corridor to note those present. And the back of the CAG making his way down the corridor. She raises her fingers to her lips, slips two into her mouth, and blows a shrill whistle to catch his attention. These marines. No damn manners. "Corporal, please tag the Sheriff, if he's not too busy, and I'll stow this mess after I poke at it for markers." And then she hustles up to catch up with the CAG. He's going her way. Dover remains behind to be sure the Red Berths remain secure.

Castor follows along with Randy as he is lead off to the brig, and for once the Tinman breaks, a sense of confusion can be seen in his face, there is a bit of fear, and a sprinkling of panic and he isn't sure of what to say as he nods back to Samantha and like that he disappears.

"And Passi, report to the ready room first thing in the morning. You're off flight status until then." So sayeth Captain Tightpants. Then the CAG is off. He makes it about halfway down the corridor, when that whistle sounds— a glance is sent over his shoulder, without breaking stride. Salazar. Figures. He keeps walking; she can catch up.

Wil grits his teeth. He shakes his head a little bit from one side to the other. "Guess I have to go crash somewhere. Or something. I don't bloody well know."" He mutters under his breath as he takes on off down the corridor.

Epi watches Salazar go, bemused, then shakes her head. "I'd best get up to CIC to let the Commander know."

Samantha sighs to the women, realizing they're definitely not getting back into the berthings, and Kai's mention of flight status. She murmurs something quietly beneath her breath, dragging her left hand across her face as she heads for the black berthings instead. Time to hot bunk with the raports…"Aye, sir. See you in the morning." SHe murmurs to Kai, then disappears.